No Place Like Home
by Angie63
Summary: Tag to 10x11. Dean's feeling guilty and Sam's not having it. Sometimes little brothers have to do the protecting.


No Place Like Home

Tag to 10x11

"Then let's get to work", Dean said to Sam. The problem was that neither one of them was exactly sure what the work actually was. They had a lead in Rome, which Charlie had set off to find. Sam had a stack of books, his laptop and a lot of hope. Dean wasn't sure _what_ he had to contribute at the moment. He stood rooted in the same spot, absently rubbing the mark. He hated the thing. Hated what it made him feel, do. There's nothing he can say to Sam right now. _I'm sorry_ isn't good enough. Even though Dean_ is_ sorry. Even though he hurts so deeply at having hurt Charlie that it's a physical ache he can't get rid of. He isn't aware of Sam staring at him from the map room table. It's covered in research and Sam's not sure where to begin. He focuses on his brother and his heart is so full of love for him he wants to break down and sob but that won't help Dean and it'll give Sam a headache so he forces himself to breathe deeply. Still, Dean can't stand there in one spot all day. He knows Dean's pretty close to exhausted and feels certain there wasn't much sleeping the night before. Sam didn't sleep much himself and he knows Dean. Knows his brother has a guilt complex a mile wide and twice as long. He gets up, goes to his brother, touches his shoulder, trying not to startle Dean.

"Hey, Dean? You need anything, water, food?" Dean doesn't turn to look at Sam. He shakes his head. Bless Sammy for trying. For thinking water, food, a comforting hand will make Dean's guilt go away. Because that's the example Sam's been given by Dean himself for over thirty years. Sam's had his share of crap. Dean knows better than anyone but this. This is more monster than he or Sam have ever come against. Dean wonders from time to time if he was less aggressive, less ... feeling a need to kill when he was actually a fact that he's gone so far off the reservation scares him on a level he couldn't voice in words, terrifies him to the point of actually being afraid to be alone with even Sam, for fear he'll hurt him again.

"Dean," His brother 's voice is so damn grounding. He feels himself reacting to it, calming down. He feels Sam come to stand in front of him before he sees him because he's shut his eyes. Still a little amazed he has to look up at this kid he slowly does and finds so much in Sam's expression. The look of fear and sorrow and pity he sees there brings Dean to big brother mode again. Little brother is freaking out and Dean can't let that happen. No matter what. It's his job to take care of Sam. Not the other way around._ Get it together Dean. For Sam._ "Dean, hey. Why don't we go in here and relax for a few minutes?" Sam looked so hopeful, Dean forced a smile. He knew Sam knew it was forced. But they did the Winchester pretend thing and Dean nodded.

"Okay", he said. He lets Sam guide him to the sofa adjacent to the large table, allows himself to be eased down. Sam stands there looking at him and it's driving Dean crazy, because he doesn't know what he needs, can't decide what to say or do next. He waits and Sam says, "I'll be right back." Dean leans his head back on the sofa and closes his eyes. He _is_ tired. Closing his eyes feels good. The shiner he's been scared to look at because it represents fighting with Charlie hurts, His head feels fuzzy and he'd really like to doze off. So maybe that's what he should do. _He could avoid a chick flick moment with Sam._ When Sam comes back he's glad to see Dean's eyes are closed, that the extreme tension has faded a little from his brother's face. He reaches down and starts to untie Dean's boots, Dean stirs and his eyes open a little. He doesn't speak and he doesn't stop Sam knowing he's giving Sam a purpose, something he can do for Dean, Sam pulls off the boots and swings his brother's feet up on the couch. He eases a pillow under his head, covers him with a blanket, gently touches his hair and Dean hears him walk towards the table. Dean feels tears well up in eyes, feels like Sam is leaving him and he was hoping Sam would sit on the other end of the sofa or at least in the chair close by. Dean fights to keep the one lonely tear that escapes his eye from falling. Sam turns around from gathering the books he wants from the table and sees that tear ._God Dean, _he thinks. He realizes Dean thinks he doesn't want to be near him. Ever since that night in the kitchen when he accused Dean of saving him because he doesn't want to be alone he's been haunted by words he wishes he'd never spoken, words he didn't mean, words he'd used simply to hurt Dean and he still didn't know why. He feels suddenly and totally responsible for how off Dean's gotten, for Dean's death, for the demon escapades, all the crap they were going through recently. Sam puts down his books. Research can wait. His brother needs the mark off or a way to manage it but right now, Dean needs Sam. Sam stands there looking at his brother lying on the couch, eyes closed, more than a single tear on his cheeks now and a rush of memories floods him, Like a slide show all the things Dean has done for him over the years goes through his brain in rapid succession, a montage of moments good and bad. It's more than Sam can bear. He goes to the sofa, crouches down and places a large hand on his brother's head. He reaches out and wipes the tears with the knuckles of the other hand, which seems to bring more tears. "Hey, it's okay Dean. It's okay buddy." Dean grabs the hand that's on his face , gripping it like it's a lifeline which it is at that moment. Dean turns his face away from Sam and Sam's not having it. He gets up, still holding his brother's hand and pulls Dean to a sitting position. He slides around behind his brother sitting on the end of the sofa, leaning Dean against his shoulder, reaching for the blanket again. He keeps his arm around Dean and his grip on Dean's hand as he covers him up. Dean relaxes, leans into Sam, sighs without meaning to but it's not exasperation, it's contentment. Sam adjusts himself in the corner of the sofa, adjusts the lights, puts his long legs up on the coffee table and reaches for the remote. He's suddenly grateful Dean bought the tv and dvd player even though he'd argued they didn't belong in the bunker, that it took away from the Men of Letters vibe. He switches it on and starts _Batman_ where Dean had left off before they went to find Charlie. Dean opens his eyes and looks up at Sam and can't contain a grin. _I'm Batman. Yeah Dean, you're Batman. Sammy I think we found the Batcave. Everybody knows Batman can't fly. I didn't. _ They both were thinking the same thing, Sam was sure of it. As the Joker is deep into his plot against Gotham, the brothers let go of their troubles for just a little while. Sam refuses to let go of Dean and Dean doesn't try to get away. This feels comfortable. It feels like _them. _Maybe Sam's the one doing the protecting, the care taking for a change but Dean's okay with it for now, for tonight. Because big brothers need to be taken care of too. And little brothers need to do the protecting. And they're learning it's good to have a little "we" time. Dean wants to watch the movie, struggles to stay awake and focused but he's so damn tired and Sam's got him and it's okay for now. He loses the fight and falls asleep, leaning on Sam. Sam waits til he's sure Dean's really, really asleep and lays his head on top of Dean's because it doesn't matter where they live, Lawrence, whatever motel, Baby, the bunker, Dean is _home. _He presses his head closer to Dean's and hugs him a little tighter. _There's no place like home_ Sam thinks because hat's where he is right now.


End file.
